Cal?”
Cal shrugged. “Nothing a veteran like you doesn’t already know.” With that statement, he turned and walked out of the gym.
Jeff’s head swung around and his eyes followed Cal until he disappeared around the corner. Only then did he allow his face to relax. The ugly sneer that seemed to be a part of his permanent expression reappeared, along with the cool, dead look in his hard, dark eyes.
Cal walked along the hall toward his office, mentally replaying the conversation. There was something not quite right about Jeff Collins since he’d been promoted. It was obvious the man was feeling the sting of being overlooked for a promotion he thought was guaranteed.
It made no sense, considering Cal was the one to recommend him for the promotion. But ultimately, the decision had been in the hands of the council and they had chosen Cal. But there was something in Jeff’s eyes…the intense hatred he’d seen in the man’s eyes seemed excessive for such a minor offense. Maybe the guy had mental problems that were not listed in his departmental record.
Cal rubbed his chin thoughtfully—wouldn’t be the first time an unstable person had gotten by the shrink at the academy. But with something like that only time could tell. For now, Cal thought, he would just keep an eye on Jeff, just in case.
He was almost back to his office when he was approached by Noel, their district chief fire marshal. “Hey, Cal, got a minute?”
Cal opened the door and motioned his friend inside. “Sure, what’ cha need?”
Noel handed him a folder. “Need you to sign off on the Hadley building.”
As the fire team responding to the call, Cal was obligated to verify the information in the report for any potential lawsuits. “Did anything seem strange about that fire?” Cal asked Noel as he scribbled his name across the forms, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.
“Do you mean about the fire or finding the kid inside?”
Cal frowned. “When I think about it, finding Marco there should not have been that much of a surprise. I’ve been aware for some time that kids like to hang out in there. Everyone from the little bitty ones to the teens seems to be able to find a use for that building. But, no, I was asking about the cause of the fire itself.”
“Completely accidental.” He motioned to the folder. “Read for yourself.”
“Yeah, I did. Just was wondering if there was anything outside of the report.”
Noel tilted his head to study his friend. “What’s this all about, Cal?”
Cal quickly shook his head trying to deflect his friend’s suspicions. He was hoping he would feel the man out subtly, but Noel was no fool. “Nothing, just wondering. Here you go.” He smiled and handed back the folder.
“Sure?”
Cal stood and patted him on the back. “You know how I am, man.”
Noel smiled. “I forgot how anal you get about stuff. But don’t worry, this was classic by-the-book accidental burning. It seemed to be started by some kind of small explosive, like a firecracker. Probably kids, but since I can’t prove it there is nothing that can be done about it.”
Cal saw his friend out before returning to the work on his desk, but unable to concentrate he soon found himself standing at the window looking out over the busy avenue below.
When the dizziness and nightmares had started Cal had brushed them off as being the aftereffects of the fire. But now, several weeks later, he was still experiencing all the same symptoms, but with even more frequency.
He’d hoped there would be some explanation for all of it when he saw Noel’s write-ups, but he’d known almost the instant he looked at it that it was just a standard investigation report.
No insidious chemicals were used, no mind-altering drugs were released in the atmosphere. And Cal was forced to accept that whatever was going on with him…was just him.
Chapter 5
Two hours after her massage, Andrea pulled into her parents’ driveway. She could feel the effects of Zack’s hard work beginning to wear off. The tension was already returning to her neck and shoulders.
She glanced at her watch to check the time, and nodded in satisfaction. Her father would not be home from work for another two hours. She planned to be long gone before then.
She grabbed the bag from the local pharmacy off the passenger seat, hopped out of her little Mercury Mariner and headed for the side door. She walked along the red brick path that led a windy trail through the beautifully manicured garden.
She looked over the fence that ran the length of the house at the neatly cut lawn and tried to ignore the empty doghouse that sat against the back gate. Her eyes flashed to it anyway. No dog had lived in it for almost twelve years, but Andrea knew her father left it there as a reminder to her, a silent warning not to interfere in his business.
When Andrea was preparing to leave home for college, she found her days and nights plagued with concern for her mother. Not that her presence in the house had ever hindered Andrew Chenault in any way, but she felt that she’d always served as some kind of buffer.
She kept having daydreams of coming home for a holiday break and discovering her mother’s lifeless body. A month before she was to leave for school, an idea came to her, and the fact that it was right before Mother’s Day made it perfect. Andrea had asked her father if it would be all right to give her mother a dog for Mother’s Day.
The fact that they both knew what an animal lover her mother was, her father had agreed. Andrea knew her father expected her to bring home a five-pound purse dog that would bounce and yelp and do little else. She would never forget the way his eyes narrowed on her face when she came through the door with a fully grown, two-hundred-pound female rottweiler.
Even though she had not openly defied him—after all, there had been no agreement on what type of dog she would buy—she knew he felt deceived. As far as Andrea could remember, that was the day he let down the pretense he’d maintained throughout her youth of being a loving father and husband. After that, they became unspoken adversaries.
Of course, the dog had taken to her gentle-natured mother right off, just as Andrea knew she would. Her mother had laughingly named her Buttercup. Andrea had few memories of her mother ever being happier than the day she received her. The dog followed Margaret everywhere, and although she never growled at him, Buttercup watched Andrew with an instinctive wariness.
That last month before she left for school, Andrea believed their home was the most at peace it had ever been and she left with a clear conscience. However, less than two weeks later, her distraught mother called her dormitory, and through the tears and slurred speech conveyed the tale that Buttercup had run away. Andrea never knew if the slurred speech was due to alcohol or a busted lip.
When she came home for the holidays five months later, the doghouse was still sitting against the fence in the backyard.
Andrea confronted her father as to why he hadn’t gotten rid of the painful reminder. He’d smiled and said, “Who knows, maybe one day Buttercup will come home.”
Despite all the things she’d seen her father do over the course
